


Pieces of a Puzzle

by Tarlan



Series: Puzzles [1]
Category: Murder by Night (1989)
Genre: Homophobia, M/M, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1995-11-01
Updated: 1995-11-01
Packaged: 2017-10-12 23:03:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/130092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarlan/pseuds/Tarlan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another serial killer is on the loose. Carlisle's attempt to help Madsen solve the case leads to a new understanding... and great danger.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pieces of a Puzzle

**Author's Note:**

> MURDER BY NIGHT - CAST LIST
> 
> Alan Strong/Kevin Carlisle - Robert Urich  
> Detective Lt. Carl Madsen - Michael Ironside  
> Karen Hicks - Kay Lenz
> 
> SYNOPSIS OF MOVIE (Partially taken from the back of the video box!!)
> 
> Alan Strong is a man without a past. Found unconscious at the scene of a brutal murder, Strong awakens to find himself the victim of amnesia. The Detective on the case, Lt Madsen, knows that his only lead is Strong. If he can unlock the secrets of the man's mind then he may have a clue as to the identity of the vicious serial killer known as The Hammer. But, as Strong begins to regain his memory - with the help of Karen Hicks, the Police psychologist ex-wife of Lt Madsen - he begins to see the face of the killer. Himself. On discovering the terrifying 'truth' behind his violent nightmares, Strong turns to the one person he can still trust, his neighbor, Kevin Carlisle, only to uncover a greater deception of swapped identities and drugged night-time tours through a deranged mind. Alan Strong realizes his own true identity is 'Kevin Carlisle' and in a final struggle, he overpowers The Hammer, the real Alan Strong, in time to save his own life and the lives of Madsen and Hicks.
> 
> First published in **Uncharted Waters 14** in 1995

Detective Carl Madsen gingerly touched the back of his head and hissed as a sharp pain flared from the wounds. They told him he was lucky to be alive, strange, but he didn't feel so lucky. His head was pounding with the monotonous rhythm of a big bass drum and Madsen felt his stomach churn as the smell wafting from the hospital dinner overloaded his olfactory senses. He had tried to force down some of the bland meal but eventually pushed away the remainder before his stomach rebelled. His fingers crept beneath the lower edge of the bandage covering the top half of his head. It felt too tight and he almost succumbed to the temptation to loosen it. Only his fear of the sharp-tongued nurse who brought in his meal persuaded him to leave it alone.

Madsen gently sank back into the soft pillows, wincing as the pressure on the back of his head increased. He closed his eyes to shut out the light that seemed to pierce him like a knife. If he had the strength to get out of bed he would have pulled the drapes to block out the late autumn sunlight that only served to aggravate the throbbing headache. Madsen sighed heavily. There was nothing to do. He was still too concussed to read leaving him with only one unwelcome option for relieving the boredom of the seemingly endless day. Thinking. Over the passed day and a half he'd found plenty of time to think - and plenty of time to berate himself over the way he'd handled the Hammer Head case. Now he could freely admit that part of his failure had been caused by jealousy; watching Karen fall so obviously in love with another man had hurt him. In some strange, inexplicable way he had hoped they might become reconciled but she was right, their marriage had been born out of need rather than love and when the 'needing' stopped there had been nothing left to fall back on. However, it was his own reaction to the other man that confused him.

Madsen frowned. When had the target for his jealousy changed from Kevin Carlisle to his ex-wife? When had he fallen for the well-built, dark-haired man whose amnesia had made him as much a mystery to himself as to the Police? A memory popped into his head....

****

He knocked on the door of Carlisle's apartment early one morning following the discovery of another murder victim. Carlisle had answered the door clad only in a deep-blue dressing gown - a cup held firmly in one strong hand. Even the memory of the gruesome murder scene had paled beneath the sight of the tall, firm body with hair still mussed from sleep. The warm tingling sensation deep in the pit of his stomach had taken him by surprise, and his eyes had wandered down the erotic sight before his brain could click back into work mode. Anger at himself had given his voice a cold edge as he ordered the reluctant witness to get dressed but the seeds of desire had been sown....

****

Madsen turned his head at the sound of movement outside, the sudden effort making his head spin alarmingly but any relief from the perpetual boredom was worth the pain. He could see a man's silhouette through the shutters of the door and thought he recognized the broad frame but the figure moved out of sight. Madsen berated himself. The figure had reminded him of Kevin Carlisle but there was no reason on this Earth why Carlisle would want to visit him. It was probably wishful thinking compounded by the fact that he had been thinking of the man only a few moments before.

Minutes passed but no-one entered so he let his thoughts drift back to that final confrontation with the Hammer Head Killer.

Anger and jealousy had blinded his judgment until he had gone so far as to accuse Carlisle of being the murderer. All the evidence had pointed that way, including fingerprints found at the scene of one of the crimes. Carl remembered his angry words with Karen after discovering who owned that set of fingerprints. It was more than just anger at Karen for allowing her emotions to override her professionalism; she had known there was something wrong with Kevin Carlisle but had kept her doubts to herself. Even recognition of the most recent victim had not removed her belief in Carlisle's innocence but Madsen only dealt with material evidence and all of that pointed to Kevin Carlisle.

"I should have waited for back-up."

The words fell upon the silent room. Anger at Karen and at himself had accompanied him on the ride across town to Carlisle's expensive apartment and he'd practically insisted Karen should go with him in a subconscious desire to punish her. They were the first to arrive but he'd been too angry and too impatient to wait. They had taken the elevator in silence, each immersed in their own thoughts of what could have been, but the doors had opened on a floor several below Carlisle's apartment to reveal the man they sought. Kevin Carlisle had tried to explain as Madsen pulled out his service revolver, stepping from the elevator to prevent Carlisle from escaping down the hallway. Then came that old, well-worn trick but Madsen had merely sneered as Carlisle's eyes widened in horror at something behind the Detective's back. His last thought before the hammer crunched into the back of his skull was that he wasn't going to fall for something as pathetic as that.

The rest was a fog of pain and half-remembered words as he fought to keep himself from sliding into unconsciousness.

Karen had been there when Madsen first awoke in the hospital. She had often accused him of not knowing when to admit he was wrong, so his simple words, 'Tell him I'm sorry', conveyed more sincerity than a thousand red roses. He smiled as he remembered how her features had softened when he apologized for his actions, treating him to one of those rare glimpses of the woman he had cared about enough to marry. She had visited him again earlier that afternoon and, although she could only stay for a few minutes, he had welcomed the company.

Madsen glanced up as the door opened. The nurse approached him and checked the tube running from the bag of saline placed high above the bed. It was nearly empty and he hoped they would remove the IV once it was completely used up. He hated the feel of the needle buried into his arm. It grated every time he moved, niggling already sensitive nerve endings.

"I hope you haven't been trying to sit up again."

He tried to look innocent but, judging from her expression, failed miserably. The nurse shook her head and sighed but said nothing more. She'd had enough trouble from this particular man long before he had been brought into the Intensive Care Unit. Detective Lt. Carl Madsen had deliberately disobeyed the Doctor's orders and gained access to one of her previous patients, Kevin Carlisle. She reached forward and turned on the television set. He sighed in annoyance as the increased noise and flickering light stabbed into his eyes, increasing the throbbing in his head. He picked up the remote control so he could switch the damn thing off but a news article caught his attention.

Another murder but that was never news to him, New York was full of murders. Madsen smirked at the sight of his Captain, John Reynold, looking all tight and uncomfortable as the Press interrogated him at the scene of the crime. The smile faded as he began to wonder who the victim was. If Reynold's was there then it had to be some high-ranking individual - or a cop. The next shot confirmed his suspicion but his mind only registered the shock of seeing a familiar face.

"Jesse?"

Nurse Simmons turned sharply as the name came across in stereo from the television anchorwoman and her patient. She reached over and switched off the set. When he didn't argue, she became even more concerned.

"Are you okay?"

Madsen stared blankly at the screen, he could hear her voice but his mind refused to acknowledge her words. She fussed around his pillow for a few seconds longer and then hurried from the room. Moments later the duty doctor entered. Madsen barely registered the man's presence as he injected the contents of a hypo into the IV tube. The edges of his world became fuzzy as he drifted off into a drug-induced sleep.

****

When he awoke it was dark outside and it was several moments before he remembered Jesse Shoreman. Madsen sniffed hard as he felt tears sting the back of his eyes; he needed air. He swept back the covers, swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat up, choking back the nausea as the room spun around him. With care, he removed the IV and dropped it onto the edge of the bed. He let his bare feet touch the floor. His toes curled up as the cold linoleum bit into his warm flesh but he hung on grimly and forced himself to stand. The room began to spin again but Madsen waited patiently for it to stop. When he deemed it safe to move, he walked carefully to the window and grabbed hold of the sill. The effort made him feel sick. It was his first time on his feet unaided since he'd taken those blows to the back of his skull...

****

He was being half-carried, half-dragged between his ex-wife and Kevin Carlisle. His attacker, Alan Strong, following behind with a gun leveled at them in one hand, the blood-stained claw hammer in the other. Strong had ordered Karen to handcuff herself to her ex-husband and the warmth of her presence beside him had been the only thing that kept him semi-conscious during the remainder of the exchange. They had lowered him onto the sofa and he had fallen sideways. Time had become meaningless as his barely focused eyes watched his own blood trickling down his arm where it pooled on the floor in an ever increasing circle...

****

Madsen swayed slightly and gripped the window sill more tightly. He slid back the pane enough to let the cold night air touch his pale, drawn features and shivered but then inhaled deeply. A river of lights from the head lamps of cars many floors below lent a fairy tale magic to the scene. New York. So drab and gray during the daylight, so magical by night. He glanced the other way to watch the ribbon of red rear lights.

"Jesse."

Images came to him unbidden. The large man with gentle hands that seemed to touch him everywhere at once. Madsen smiled. They had met at the Police academy. Carl had been the oldest in the class by four years and had felt like an outsider from the first day. The rest were all fresh from college and all they could do was talk about how it would feel to kill someone but he'd already experienced killing. The fear of the hunter and the hunted; the icy fingers that crept down your spine despite the hot, humid air of the jungle and the way your heart leaped into your throat with each new shadow. These were old friends. He'd killed maybe a dozen times over, blown away kids not much older than himself whose only crime had been to be born in the North of Vietnam.

Jesse had been one of those college boys with their high ideals of right and wrong and their ambitions of becoming great detectives.

Madsen had expected a hard time from the class sergeant, Martin Brookes, but the man had treated him like a long lost son, however, being Brooke's favorite had been worse than being the black sheep of the class. That particular honor had fallen on Jesse Shoreman, but rather than making them enemies, it brought them closer together. Jesse would screw up and Carl would take the heat.

The journey from classmate to lover had come suddenly after a night of drunken revelry. Carl had accepted an invitation to crash out in Jesse's small apartment and ended up moving in. The affair had lasted 5 months; a record for both of them. It was the first time Madsen had taken a male lover since 'Nam and the first time he'd experienced a full homosexual relationship. Their nights had been filled with passion, something that had always been missing in 'Nam.

The affair had ended amiably enough and they had remained good friends through the years. They had earned their Gold Shields around the same time but Jesse chose to join the world of Internal Affairs whereas Carl ended up in Vice. The last time they met had been following a Police involved shooting a few months back. They'd sunk a few beers and ended up in bed together - for old time's sake.

Carl glanced at his watch; the local news would start soon. He closed the window and turned back to face the television. Exhaustion hit him suddenly and he swore profusely. The set seemed further away than he remembered, but somehow he managed to reach it and flick the switch that brought it back to life.

****

"Doctor, here are the status reports."

Doctor Jefferies took the clipboard and quickly scanned the entries. He stopped as a familiar name leaped from the page. "Carl Madsen?"

"The Detective from the Hammer Head case."

Jefferies smiled. "It's a strange world, Nurse. Only a few weeks ago I was sounding this one out for unauthorized access to a patient and now he *is* my patient." The Doctor scanned through Madsen's record. "A sedative?"

"I called in the duty doctor. Lt. Madsen seemed upset after hearing about the murdered police officer."

The doctor looked up in concern. Head injuries were dangerous at the best of times but emotional trauma could make matters even worse.

"I turned off the television at the set so he couldn't switch it back on using the remote."

"I think I'll go check on him just the same."

The Doctor had almost reached the door when he heard the crash. He yelled out to the Nurse and rushed in to find Madsen lying on the floor near the side of the bed. The attempt to stop his fall had sent the bedside table crashing about him. The Doctor gingerly stepped over broken glass and knelt by his patient's side. Madsen was still conscious.

"I just wanted some fresh air."

Jefferies was professional enough to bite back the caustic reply that sprang to his lips, his patient needed his help not his anger.

"It's okay, just lie still until I've had a chance to check you over."

He looked up as the Nurse burst into the room with an orderly. After gently feeling along the stocky frame and finding no sign of injury Jefferies nodded to them and together they lifted Madsen back onto the bed. The flashing lights and the sound of crowd noise drew the Doctor's attention to the television. He gave the nurse a hard stare before turning back to examine the deep gash in Madsen's left hand but, as he gently cleaned the cut, he questioned his patient.

"Was he a friend?"

Jefferies nodded towards the television just as an old photo of Jesse Shoreman flashed onto the screen.

"Yeah."

His weakened defences began to crumble as the physical pain and mental anguish crashed down upon him. The tears held back earlier overfilled his eyes and Madsen reached up to wipe them away but couldn't hold back the flood of fresh tears.

"It's okay."

The doctor beckoned the nurse over and whispered his instructions. Moments later she handed him a phial and a hypodermic needle. The Doctor quickly cleaned and re-attached the IV before administering the sedative. He watched as the drug slowly took effect. The soft sobs that wracked the body subsided gradually as the exhausted man succumbed to the sedative. Jefferies reached over for a tissue and gently wiped away the wet streaks from his sleeping patient's face.

****

When Madsen awoke the cold, cloudless day was already half over. He turned his head at the slight sound of movement to find Karen seated by his side. He looked at her solemn face and the memories crashed back in.

"Jesse's dead."

The tone was flat but he couldn't keep the emotion from his expressive eyes and turned away before she could witness his pain. Karen hung her head and let her own memories crowd in. Jesse was the first person Carl had phoned after their impromptu wedding. She smiled as she remembered the deep, rich voice clearly audible through the telephone Carl held between them.

_Man, I can't leave you two alone for a minute._

"What happened, Karen?"

"They think he met his killer in a Gay bar. His body was found in an alleyway, naked, bound and gagged. Bishop and Hilton are on the case. They believe he was killed somewhere else and then dumped. The autopsy's scheduled for later today but word is he was beaten and then strangled." Karen ran her hand through her light brown hair then pushed it away from her face. "Oh God, Carl. I never even realized he was gay. Did you know? I mean, you lived with..."

Karen's eyes widened as a thought hit her. She waited for him to deny a relationship and her eyes hardened as he looked away.

"Were you lovers?"

He nodded gently and waited for the angry backlash but none came. Carl glanced up to find Karen had moved away to the other side of the room, her face in profile as she gazed out of the window. She was laughing softly but tears were falling down her face.

"Twice within 12 hours." She turned to catch his puzzled expression. "I've only really cared for two men in my entire life. You - and Kevin. Last night Kevin tells me he doesn't love me. I was just an 'anchor in the darkness', someone to hold onto when his world was full of unknowns. Now he's regained his memory, he's remembered he's gay. How can you forget you're gay? And now you."

"I'm sorry, Karen. I haven't... not since Jesse. It didn't seem important enough to tell you. It was such a long time ago."

Carl hated lying to her but in some respect it was the truth. There had been no-one in his life since Karen walked into it, except for that one night with Jesse Shoreman and even that had taken place after their divorce.

Karen sighed heavily. She didn't have the energy to remonstrate with him over what happened before they had even met but the innate sensitivity that had lead her down her chosen career path as a psychologist recognized his pain. Sitting back down on the bed, she took Carl's undamaged hand in hers.

"Did you love him?"

"Yes. No. I don't know. But I cared. I still do care."

"And me?"

"I care about you. You know that." Madsen sighed deeply. "I'm sorry about Carlisle. I'm sorry he hurt you."

"It's okay. It's hardly your fault. I'll get over it. It's not like he deceived me, he was so mixed up he probably didn't know what to feel about anyone or anything. Even now he's not 100% positive. To be honest, I should have known by the way his eyes would follow other men when we were together... and I'm supposed to be the psychologist, the expert on human behavior!"

Her face crumbled as the pain of losing Kevin flooded back.

"Come here."

Madsen gathered his ex-wife into his arms. He patted her back gently and whispered words of reassurance as she sobbed against him, her own arms wrapped around him in a tight embrace. A few minutes passed before she loosened her grip. Karen sat up and brushed her hand across her eyes to wipe away the tears. She smiled gratefully as he thrust a tissue into her hand.

"You think you're so grown-up and then this happens." Karen laughed at herself and then sobered. "Thanks, Carl. Thanks for being there when I needed you."

****

Madsen stuffed the last of his things into a small holdall. Four days had passed since his fall and he was well aware he could have been out of hospital earlier if he hadn't been so stubborn. He glanced around the room one more time to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything and then left. Karen was waiting for him by the Nurse's station. She reached over to take the small holdall from him.

"It's okay, I can carry it. I'm not an invalid."

"Don't be so macho, Carl. Give me the bag."

Madsen knew when not to argue with his ex-wife and allowed her to take the holdall from him. She lead him down to her car and helped him into the passenger seat but didn't speak to him again until they had joined the flow of traffic heading towards Carl's small apartment.

"Reynold's doesn't want to see your face in the office for at least another week."

"You're joking!"

"No joke, Carl. You're on sick call until the Police physician says you're fit for duty."

Karen smiled as her ex-husband slumped in the seat beside her but he knew the rules. She kept her eyes on the road as they thread their way through the busy streets.

"How're Bishop and Hilton getting on with the investigation?"

"They're not. They still haven't figured out where Jesse was killed, in fact, they haven't even figured out which bars he frequented that night."

"Then how do they know it was a Gay bar?"

"Jesse's not the first victim with this MO. There have been two other cases over on the East side. Both of the previous victims were known gays and both were seen cruising the night they died." Karen glanced quickly at Madsen. "Carl, all three victims were Cops."

Karen turned the car into a quiet side-street and pulled to a halt outside an old tenement building. The four-floor high facade had seen better days and some of the lower windows were boarded up where the glass had been smashed by local vandals.

"I wish you'd move out of this area. It's not safe."

"Name one place in this town that is."

Karen sighed and pulled the holdall from the back seat. She followed him up the stone steps and waited patiently while he opened the outside door. After making sure the door had closed firmly behind her, she made her way up the stairway to the second floor. Madsen stopped part-way up and she waited for him to catch his breath; he was weaker than he would care to admit.

Eventually, they reached his apartment. Karen bit her lip in worry as she watched Carl drop onto the sofa. The colour had drained from his face emphasizing the dark fatigue marks under his eyes.

"You stay there and I'll get you a glass of water."

By the time she returned Carl had fallen asleep. She debated whether or not she should wake him up and finally decided he couldn't sleep where he was. By the time he awoke he would be stiff and sore all over. She shook his shoulder gently.

"Carl? You can't sleep there. Come on, give me your hand."

Karen led him to his bedroom, undressed him and put him to bed. She tucked in the blanket, leaned over and kissed him gently. He snuffled slightly and then fell silent. Returning to the small lounge, Karen wrote a quick note. She left the note on the coffee table, gathered up her coat and left the apartment, locking the door securely behind her.

****

"Hey, Mike. How you doing?"

Mike Bishop frowned as he recognized Carl Madsen's voice on the other end of the line.

"Fine, how about you? How's the head?"

"It's okay. Still a little groggy on occasion."

Bishop smiled. Madsen usually understated his personal condition so his head had to be pretty sore. "So what do you need to know?"

It was Madsen's turn to smile. He couldn't fool Mike Bishop, they had known each other too long. "I'm bored. Thought I might be able to help you out on the Shoreman case while I'm laid up. You know, background research..."

Bishop laughed. Madsen had to be bored if he was offering to handle some of the paperwork.

"Sure, Carl. We could use an extra pair of hands especially when we're after a Cop killer. I'll drop by this afternoon with copies of everything we've got."

"Thanks, Mike. I appreciate it."

Bishop held onto the phone a while longer as the disengaged tone replaced Madsen's voice. Madsen and Shoreman had been friends but for the first time since learning of Shoreman's sexual persuasion, Bishop wondered just how friendly they had been. He shook his head and laughed quietly to himself as he caught sight of Madsen's ex-wife passing through on the way to her own office, amazed he could have entertained the thought that Madsen might also be gay.

"Hey, Hilton. Madsen's bored and wants to give us a hand with some of the donkey work."

Hilton looked up and smiled. They'd been working on this case solidly with little to show for their hard work. Perhaps it was time to gain a new perspective.

****

Madsen lay on the floor of his apartment with case papers strewn about him. He reached for another cashew nut and popped it into his mouth as he read through the Crime Scene report. Turning the page, he swallowed hard at the sight of an envelope full of photos. Madsen pulled them out and looked at each in turn. It was hard to believe the tightly bound and gagged body belonged to his former lover. Madsen hadn't seen Jesse in nearly four months although he'd spoken to him less than three weeks ago on the phone. The Jesse Shoreman he remembered had been a large, well-muscled man but he was shocked to see the battered body in the photos. Madsen picked up the autopsy report and carefully checked it. A few anomalies caught his attention and he decided to verify them before continuing. He reached over, picked up the phone and dialed the number on the Autopsy Report.

"I'd like to speak to Dr George Andrews... Detective Lt. Madsen. Yes, I'll hold."

Madsen spread out the photos on top of the other papers and picked up a close-up of Jesse's face. He stared at the image as if he were trying to see Jesse's last sight in those long dead eyes but then his attention was brought back as a gruff voice sounded in his ear.

"Yes, Dr Andrews. I want to ask you a few questions about the Shoreman autopsy..."

****

Kevin Carlisle took a sip of his beer and eyed up the area around him; the bar was half-full of men of varying ages. Some were definitely cruising but he avoided their gaze, he wasn't interested in company for the night. The music bellowing out from the jukebox was not the type he would have chosen but it had a throbbing beat that made you tap along subconsciously. Loud laughter brought his attention to a couple at the other end of the bar. They were part of the leather and steel brigade, their studded belts, buckles and wrist straps sparkling under the low disco-type lighting. Both had thick mustaches making them appear like clones of each other. There were several other groups present. Some were decked like laborers in their jeans and tee shirts and then there was the suit and tie contingent. He glanced down at himself still a little uncertain of his true place in this society. Although most of his memories had returned he still felt like an outsider reading a diary of his own life and thoughts. He had chosen his jeans and tee shirt without a second thought despite his suit and tie job as a freelance journalist.

The late afternoon light filtered through the open door as he watched another customer enter the bar, the tight white jeans and powder-blue tee shirt emphasizing good muscle tone. The newcomer spent a moment gazing around before waving to someone and moving off toward the far corner. Carlisle watched as the man walked away, noticing the hip hugging denim pulled taut across a nicely rounded rear. He swallowed the last of the beer, caught the barman's eye and handed over the correct money as the barman set a fresh drink in front of him. This was his third and he knew he was getting light-headed.

Another fifteen minutes passed before the next customer walked in. Carlisle squinted in the dim light but couldn't make out the features against the waning daylight shining from behind the newcomer through the open door. The man wore a heavy overcoat covering a suit - the top button of his white shirt undone with the tie loosened. Carlisle squinted at the strangely familiar figure. He continued to watch as the other allowed his eyes to adjust to the dimness before shrugging off his coat and making his way to the bar. Obviously, the man wasn't expecting to see anybody he knew. The barman greeted him warmly, like an old friend and within moments they were deep in conversation. The man pulled a piece of paper out of his inside suit pocket and showed it to the barman but gained only a negative reply. A drink was placed without any further words being spoken.

The stockily built customer laid his coat over the next stool and leaned on the bar as he nursed his drink. Carlisle continued to stare as the man took a long swallow of the pale liquid but the face was turned away from him. The man started to raise the glass for the second time but then stopped, the glass held part-way to his lips. He turned as his instincts warned him of the watcher, lowered the glass and smiled without humor.

"Kevin Carlisle."

Carlisle set his drink back down on the bar as Carl Madsen picked up his coat and made his way towards him. Seeing Madsen brought back memories of that fateful day more than three weeks ago when he had been out jogging...

****

As he turned the corner he witnessed the car hurtle out of control, overturning as it hit some roadwork's and then explode into bright orange flames. The female driver screamed as the flames engulfed the car but never lived long enough to feel the heat of the fire. The figure of a man had appeared next to the driver's window. The double-headed hammer smashing into the woman's head while she was still trapped in the burning wreckage had been little more than a macabre silhouette against the fiery backdrop. As the shock passed, returning control to his limbs, Carlisle had started to run forward, but before he could do anything the gas tank exploded. The force of the blast blew him off his feet, slamming his head hard against the brick wall, taking away his memory...

****

Carlisle remembered his first meeting with the detective in charge of the investigation. With a third murder in as many weeks and no clues to go on, Madsen had not been having a good time. When they found Carlisle near the murder scene the Detective must have thought his luck had changed but then the Doctor had broken the bad news. However, too many years of police work, dealing with the scum of humanity, had toughened the Lieutenant until he could no longer accept amnesia as a valid diagnosis. Carlisle recalled the end of that first meeting where he had begged for one small piece of information, and Madsen had relented. The ID in his wallet gave him what he wanted - his name - and Carlisle spent the next two weeks believing he was Alan Strong while the real Alan Strong had taken over his true identity.

Karen Hicks had been the Police Psychologist assigned to help him regain his memory. With no idea of who he was and with conflicting emotions about what he was, he had used Karen as his anchor to reality. However, the relationship had deepened too quickly until the Psychologist broke the golden rule of never becoming involved with a patient. Instead, she had allowed them to become lovers.

While he had no memory of his past life it had been easy to convince himself that his sense of disappointment in their love-making was due to mental trauma. Now, with his memory returned, he knew he'd been missing the strength, domination and feel of another man.

As he looked at the strong, angular features of the man who stood above him, Carlisle realized why it had been so easy to fall into the arms of Karen Hicks. It was the knowledge that this woman had once belonged with Carl Madsen that had truly excited him but he had mistakenly interpreted this as love for Karen. The reason was simple now he had his memory back. Madsen had stirred emotions that he couldn't understand while suffering from amnesia. In the space of a single meeting those dark eyes had expressed a dozen emotions from arrogance, to frustration, to subliminal seduction - always pushing, making him feel guilty for not remembering, making him feel something else that he couldn't put a name to -until now.

"I warned you not to hurt her."

Carlisle raised his eyes to meet the hard, angry stare.

****

News of the latest killing had not taken long to hit the television screen. He had looked up in horror as his tired, confused mind recognized the plush office with it's expensive carpeting and furniture that was barely a block away from the bar where he found himself. On the screen he saw the familiar stocky frame of the case detective pass through the crowd that had gathered to view the gruesome scene, the figure brushing aside the microphones that were pushed into his face by demanding reporters.

Some unknown need had been triggered by the sight of Carl Madsen and minutes later he found himself entering the scene of the latest Hammer killing. Forensic experts were dusting for prints, the Coroner's office were dealing with the body, Police Officers hung around looking aimless or trying to keep back the horde of reporters, cameramen and ghouls. The cacophony of voices had torn at him from all sides as he mumbled Madsen's name to the Officer demanding to know what he was doing at the crime scene. Still in shocked confusion he had found Madsen giving orders in a room crowded with people, the lines of stress etched deeply across the Detective's tired features.

Madsen had verbally attacked Carlisle the moment he saw him, taking out all his frustration and anger on the confused 'witness', but it wasn't just the fresh murder that had angered Madsen. Madsen had seen Carlisle as a threat to his ex-wife's career and, in his anger, he warned Carlisle not to hurt her.

****

"I never meant to hurt Karen. I just didn't know who I was, what I was. All I knew was that, while I was with her, I felt... safe, but I knew something was wrong in our relationship," his voice lowered almost to a whisper, "but I didn't know what. Once my memory returned it all fell into place."

Carlisle dragged a hand through his thick, brown hair and sighed.

"Look, I don't expect you to believe me but it is the truth. I've not lied to you yet."

Carlisle watched as the anger slowly faded from Madsen's eyes to be replaced by guilt. Madsen bowed his head in shame. He owed the man in front of him an apology for the way he had treated him during the Hammer Head investigation. He had made that apology through Karen but, here he was, about to make the same mistakes again. Madsen slung his coat over a nearby stool and took the seat closest to Carlisle.

"Do you wanna a beer?"

Carlisle smiled. It was the closest he was likely to get to a personal apology but it was more than enough so he accepted graciously. Two fresh drinks arrived and they drank slowly without words until Carlisle broke the silence.

"How's your head?"

"Sore. I'm still on sick call."

Carlisle nodded and the silence lengthened once more. "This probably isn't the right time to ask but I'm thinking of writing a book about the Hammer Killer. I was wondering whether you'd be prepared to collaborate."

Madsen gave a small half-laugh. "I didn't exactly shine on that case."

"Believe it or not, I think you did a good job, all things considered. Alan Strong was a very clever man."

At the time Carlisle hadn't realized what had driven him to go to the scene of the latest murder but the office was exactly as his confused mind had dreamed it to be. It was only later he discovered Alan Strong, the Hammer Killer, had been drugging him and force-feeding all the gory details of the brutal slayings into his drug-soaked mind. Carlisle looked up and captured the dark eyes.

"Anyhow, my attitude towards you didn't help."

Madsen pursed his lips in guilty acceptance of the unspoken apology, knowing that Carlisle could not be blamed for his attitude once the full facts were known. He lowered his own eyes as he made his own apology.

"Nor mine towards you. But I still don't know."

"Well, think about it. I've already got a title." Madsen raised one eyebrow questioningly. "Puzzles. The name of his restaurant. The place where he selected his victims."

Madsen swallowed the last of his beer and stood up. "Look, I'll let you know but I've gotta go now."

"Please stay."

Madsen looked down into intense light brown eyes and felt something stir within him, something he hadn't felt since that morning at Carlisle's apartment. The feeling both excited and scared him. He felt his body react to the subtle signals emanating from the other man and backed away in uncertainty.

Carlisle thought he'd seen that reaction before when Madsen had turned up outside his door early one morning, and offered to take him out for breakfast. As it happened, Madsen had no intention of eating, he had wanted Carlisle to see the latest killing ground, but to Carlisle, the memory was one of desire rather than death; the way the dark eyes had raked down his body had set his damaged mind adrift in a sea of confusion.

"I've only been in town just over a month. I haven't had much of a chance to make new friends and I could do with some company right now."

Carlisle smiled slightly as, suddenly, he recognized the reason for the flushed expression. The discovery washed him up on this new shore of certainty and in that moment he knew Madsen was attainable. The thought pleased him more than he realized but he waited until Madsen had regained some of his composure before continuing.

"Anyway, it's my turn to buy breakfast."

The flush that stained Madsen's cheeks was barely visible in the dim light but the sensation those words awoke hung between them like a flame.

****

Carl Madsen shifted slightly in his sleep until his head was pillowed more comfortably against Carlisle's shoulder, his arm draped across the other man's torso. At the movement Kevin opened sleep-filled eyes, sighed softly and smiled as strong arms tightened around him.

When Madsen agreed to stay they were both fully aware of the possible consequences. They remained at the bar for less than a hour before making their way to Carlisle's apartment but, as the door closed behind them, the journalist pulled Madsen gently into his arms and their mouths met in a tentative first kiss. Carlisle gazed into his companion's eyes searching for any apprehension in the dark depths. Finding none he moved forward once more and took the lips into a deeper kiss, his tongue pushing against the other's closed mouth. Kevin moaned in contentment as the lips parted and the other's tongue entwined with his, exchanging tastes. He reached up and barely managed to stop himself from placing his hand around the back of Madsen's head to pull him closer. The area was still too delicate following the blows by Alan Strong. Instead, he moved his arms to the front of Carl's body and began to push the heavy overcoat from the broad shoulders.

Carl allowed the coat to slide from him and, as soon as his arms were clear of the sleeves, he pulled away and waited until Kevin had removed his own padded jacket. Their mouths met again in a hungry kiss so powerful it took their breath away.

Kevin was the first to break free, his eyes wide in a flushed face as he stared at the other man. They were both breathing hard. Carl moved one hand up until it lay against the thin cotton tee shirt above Kevin's heart where he could feel the fast rhythm against his fingertips. Reaching between them, Carlisle gathered the hand up in his own and brought it up to his lips. He licked and kissed each finger in turn, pressed his lips against the open palm, then kissed the soft skin of the inner wrist before reaching forward to take his companion's mouth once more. This time the kiss was less passionate but infinitely more tender. He released the other man and stepped back.

Madsen curled his fingers around the extended hand and allowed himself to be led to the bedroom. Once there, Carlisle released his tight grip and slowly began to undress, his eyes breaking contact only for the second it took to tug the tee shirt over his head. After a moments hesitation, Carl followed, his clothes dropping to the floor in an untidy pile. They waited for a moment after undressing, eyes caressing exposed skin, lingering on firm muscles and aching flesh. Madsen reached forward tentatively and trailed his fingers through the soft, dark hairs that curled across his companion's chest and down the center of the torso where it joined the denser hairs at the groin. Carlisle closed his eyes as the fingers brushed across his taut abdomen sending a frisson of energy dancing along his nerve endings but opened them when the teasing digits left his body.

He moved forward slowly and ran his hands down the sides of Carl's body from shoulder to hip, shivering with pleasure as the Lieutenant's fingers gripped his upper arms tightly. His own moved around the firm body until they cupped the rounded cheeks and then he pulled the other man towards him until they touched along the whole length of their bodies. Carlisle sucked the now slightly swollen lips and carefully forced the other backwards until they reached the bed. Despite the urge to be on top, he turned and allowed himself to cushion the fall of his companion as they fell onto the bed.

A slow burning rhythm started as Carlisle began to grind his lower body against the slightly smaller man above him, his pleasure heightening as a mouth descended upon his throat, licking and biting the delicate skin before gently nibbling his ear lobe. A hand moved between their tightly clasped bodies, rubbing against a sensitive nipple, sending jolts of electricity coursing through his body to center in his groin. He moaned and pushed harder against the other. The hand pulled away until he could feel the soft skin on his lover's chest against his own hairy torso. With sudden desperation, Kevin rolled their bodies until he had pinned the slightly smaller man beneath him. He thrust hard once, then again and then stilled as his nerve endings overloaded into pure ecstasy. A new warmth flooding between them told of his lover's completion and they collapsed against each other in release.

Carlisle gently kissed Madsen but pulled back when there was no response. He smiled as he gazed at the sleep-softened features. Madsen had been out of hospital for barely more than a day and the effects of their love-making had completely exhausted his new lover. He took the opportunity to study the Detective. It wasn't a beautiful face but there was something alluring in the way the long, dark lashes fanned across the closed eyes, the well-defined cheek bones and arching eyebrows giving him a slightly satanic air. The lips, swollen from their passionate kisses, were partially curved leaving an impression of wantonness. Carefully, he shifted his weight until he lay close to the sleeping man's side. With infinite care he pulled the other over until Carl lay in his arms and then he joined his lover in sleep.

Now he was awake and the memory of their love-making brought a smile of deep satisfaction to his lips. The warm body nestled against him felt so good. He waited patiently for the other to awaken, secretly hoping there would be no regrets. The night was still young and he wanted more of the slow, passionate love-making before it was over.

In sleep the face had taken on a sensuousness that lent an air of vulnerability to his lover and Kevin felt his body begin to stir in response once more but he savagely pushed those sensations to the back of his mind.

Other thoughts came into his head unbidden as he waited for his lover. Madsen had shown something to the barman. A photo, perhaps? Why? Who was the person in the photo? By the time he felt Carl stir beside him his journalistic mind had partially smothered desire, but one glance into beautiful, dark eyes rekindled the fire.

Another hour passed in unadulterated passion before Kevin found the time to satisfy his journalistic hunger.

"Why were you in the bar today?"

"Humph?"

Carlisle smiled as his satiated lover snuggled closer against him. He jabbed Carl in the rib with an elbow. Madsen sighed heavily.

"I'm investigating a murder..."

"Uh uh, you're on sick call."

"That's what Reynold's thinks. I'm trying to figure out the movements of the latest victim on the night he died."

"The Gay Cop Killings?"

Madsen frowned. As usual some reporter had come up with a tag for this series of murders. No doubt, if the victims had all been heterosexuals then the killer's tag would have been 'the New York Cop Slayer' but the papers loved to emphasize the victims when they came from a minority group.

"Why is this case so important to you?"

"It's not. I got bored sitting at home with nothing to do but watch the hands move on the clock..."

"Liar. Did you know any of the victims?"

Madsen pursed his lips together. Kevin Carlisle was too astute to fool that easily. "Jesse Shoreman. We were good friends... and we were lovers a long time ago."

Kevin pulled his companion closer and hugged him tightly as if he could crush away the pain.

"I'm sorry. I've read the papers. They said the first two victims were picked up in a bar and they had no reason to believe that wasn't the case with the third. So you're trying to figure out where Jesse Shoreman met his killer. Perhaps I can give you a hand. It'll be safer with two of us."

Madsen smiled. He wasn't that worried about being propositioned in a bar. He knew how to say 'no'. The smile deepened to a grin as he realised he had ended up in bed with the first man who had propositioned him. Perhaps Kevin was right after all.

"Okay, you can tag along, but don't get in the way."

Kevin grinned at the hard words, knowing Madsen's bark was far worse than his bite but he'd got what he wanted so he kissed Carl fiercely and drove all thoughts of Jesse Shoreman from his lover's mind.

****

Madsen picked up his watch and frowned. They had spent the rest of the afternoon and most of the evening in Kevin's bed. He hadn't eaten since lunch time and he felt he ought to give Karen a call in case she was worried about him. The thought stopped him dead. Karen. How could he have been so stupid? How was he going to explain this to her? He should never have allowed this to happen.

Carlisle felt Madsen's body stiffen beside him and held him tightly.

"What's wrong?"

Madsen shrugged and tried to pull away. "Nothing. It's late, I ought to be going."

"No. Something's up. Are you starting to have regrets about this?" Carlisle felt the other draw away. "Who are the regrets for, Carl? You or Karen?"

Madsen turned angrily to face the other. "She trusted me."

"Trusted you with what? Did you promise never to get involved with me in any way?"

Carlisle stopped as uncertainty crossed his lover's face. Madsen had made no such promises to his ex-wife but it still felt wrong. Kevin Carlisle had hurt her and she could only look upon this as further evidence of betrayal by both Carlisle and himself.

"It's still wrong. It's too soon after..."

Madsen sighed and rolled out of the bed. He felt self-conscious standing naked in the middle of the bedroom so he quickly pulled on his clothes. He was the first to break the heavy silence.

"I..."

"Please don't go."

"I have to."

"Have to or want to?"

Madsen bowed his head in despair. "I'm sorry."

He turned and left before Carlisle could reply. Kevin sighed in annoyance as he attempted to find a more comfortable position. The bed seemed too large and too cold without the warm presence of the other beside him. His thoughts wandered back to earlier that evening and he started to ache inside. He wanted Carl Madsen in a way he hadn't wanted anyone in a very long time.

****

Madsen entered his empty apartment and instantly the walls seemed to close in on him. There was no sense of home, it was as if he had walked into the wrong apartment by mistake. He glanced around to make certain but the furniture was familiar and the photos on the walls resembled family and friends. Carl poured himself a bourbon and sat down on the overstuffed sofa.

The blare of a car horn jerked him awake. He groaned as stiff muscles made their presence known and attempted to pull himself out of the seat. He couldn't remember falling asleep but he wished he hadn't done so on the sofa. He finally found his feet and stretched to straighten out the kinks in his back and neck. Carl jerked his head around suddenly as the intercom squealed and swore profusely at the pain that movement caused. He moved across and pressed the switch.

"Yeah?"

"Carl? It's Kevin."

When he gained no immediate answer over the intercom Kevin thought he was going to be told to get lost but then the door release buzzer sounded. Carlisle glanced around the untidy apartment until his eyes finally took in the sight of Carl Madsen still dressed in last night's clothes. Madsen noticed the look.

"I fell asleep on the sofa."

Carlisle nodded. "I'll make some fresh coffee while you get changed."

Kevin wrestled with the water faucet as he tried to fill the coffee reservoir but stopped when he heard the sound of the shower. How he wished he could step into that shower beside his lover. The vision of his hands sliding over the soapy body sent a jolt through his own. He savagely crushed the thought before the sensation manifested itself in his groin. The shower stopped suddenly and moments later Madsen emerged bundled in a bath sheet. He flushed as he caught Carlisle's eyes traveling the length of his body, but carried on into the bedroom without saying a word. Kevin smiled in approval as the denim and tee shirt clad figure emerged from the bedroom some time later. Madsen had chosen to dress in a similar fashion to Carlisle, proof that he was still prepared to take Kevin along with him on his search for Shoreman's killer.

****

Carlisle took a sip of the beer placed in front of him. They'd covered seven bars so far with no positive results, but decided to stop at this latest for a breather. The cold, late-fall evening was already starting to draw in.

"How comes you're checking out the bars? Wouldn't this base have been covered already?"

Madsen smiled.

"The first two victims were seen cruising the night before their bodies were found. Bishop and Hilton have checked all the known Gay bars yet no-one remembers seeing Jesse the night he died. This leaves a couple of possibilities. One. They haven't checked all the bars, or two, the bars are a red herring, the victims met their killer elsewhere."

"So you're gonna check every bar in town so you can eliminate one possibility."

"If necessary. All I know for certain is that this killer is selective. He's not just killing gays, he's killing gay cops. He probably chose each victim in advance. Could even have been..."

"What is it?"

Madsen's frown deepened. "He could have been waiting for them to come home. Took them right off the street."

"What you're saying is, if the killer knew enough to know they were both gay and cop then he might have known where they lived or knew other habits they kept."

"I've gotta make a call to Bishop. Wait here." Madsen returned a few minutes later. "Bishop wasn't there but Hilton's gonna send men out to check each victim's neighborhood in case anyone remembers seeing or hearing anything unusual on the night in question."

Carlisle frowned as he watched Madsen pick up his beer, noticing the effort it took. The other man was still weak from his brush with death. The blows inflicted on Madsen had been much more severe than the one he had sustained from the force of the car explosion. His memory returned to that night when he discovered the identity of the real Alan Strong...

****

He had tried to convince Madsen that all was not as it seemed but could see no belief in the dark eyes. The movement from the dark shadow behind Madsen had caught his attention too late and he could only watch in horror at the sight of the hammer descending, hearing the sickening thud as it impacted with the back of Madsen's head. The sheer brutality of the act had kept both Karen and himself frozen in stunned disbelief as Strong dealt a second blow.

Later that same night, Carlisle had held Karen in his arms as they comforted each other through the delayed shock. Karen had chuckled that she had always known Carl had a thick skull but the laughter had turned to sobbing as the full realization of what had happened hit home.

****

Carlisle came to a decision. "Let's call it a day."

He smiled gently as he saw Madsen nod in resignation, pleased Carl had recognized his own limitations without the need for a macho slanging match. Carlisle grabbed the car keys off the bar.

"I'll drive."

Madsen looked up in shock. "I didn't know you could?"

"You must be dead beat if you can't remember seeing my driver's license. Finding it in Alan Strong's bathroom drawer brought my memory back."

Madsen frowned and then his expression cleared as he remembered and he nodded in mute acceptance of this forgotten fact. They drove along in silence and it was only when Carlisle pulled over and switched off the engine that Madsen began to take in their surroundings.

"I thought you were taking me home?"

"I have but you didn't say whose home you wanted to be taken to." Carlisle pulled the keys out of the ignition and got out of the car. He leant back in through the open doorway. "Are you coming in or are you gonna stay out here all night?"

"This isn't right."

"Carl, nothing ever felt as right as this. Don't deny it."

Carlisle waited but gained no reply. He shook his head slowly. At least Madsen hadn't attempted a denial. He closed the car door and waited for a few moments but Madsen remained where he was. Sighing heavily, Carlisle turned away but as he reached the top of the steps he heard the car door slamming shut. He looked around and smiled in barely concealed elation as Madsen approached, hands buried deep into his coat pockets.

"I'm already stiff from falling asleep on the sofa. Spending the night in the car isn't gonna improve the situation."

"To be honest, Carl, I'm tired. All I want to do is get cleaned up and then get some sleep."

"And that's all I want."

Carl smiled in that enigmatic way that had become so familiar, then, reaching inside his coat pocket, he pulled out a packet of cigarettes, took one out and placed it between thin lips. Another quick search found a cheap plastic lighter with an advertisement for Marlboro printed on it's side. He flicked the head to produce a small blue flame and inhaled deeply as the cigarette began to burn. Madsen glanced up to see Kevin staring at him in slight annoyance. With a sigh of exasperation he dropped the cigarette onto the ground and crushed it beneath the heel of his shoe. He glanced back up tentatively and smiled weakly as a broad grin covered his lover's face.

****

Carlisle made no attempt to capture the slightly smaller man as the door closed softly behind them. Instead, he flicked on the light, shrugged out of his jacket and threw the heavy item across a chair.

"I'll get some coffee going. Why don't you take a quick shower. There's a spare robe hanging up behind the bathroom door and a new toothbrush in the vanity unit."

Madsen paused in uncertainty. He couldn't deny he'd like to get rid of the smell of stale smoke that clung to his clothes and body but he was afraid of dropping his defenses just in case Kevin took advantage. He needn't have worried for Carlisle carried on into the kitchen without turning back.

When he emerged from the bathroom, clean and dry, Kevin was seated on the couch sipping from a thick ceramic mug. He indicated towards a similar mug standing on the coffee table. Madsen took a seat across from Carlisle and sipped slowly at the hot, black liquid. He watched as Kevin stood up, stretched and held his gaze for a moment before heading for the bathroom. Carl listened to the sound of running water as he swallowed the last of his coffee and then made his way into the bedroom.

He'd spent the time in the shower debating on whether he should insist on having a bed made up for him on the sofa but his protesting muscles couldn't stand another night of discomfort.

Madsen discarded the robe, allowing it to drop by the side of the bed, and clambered between the cool sheets. When Carlisle entered the room barely ten minutes later, Madsen was already fast asleep. Carlisle slid in beside his lover and felt his insides melt as he gazed at the sleeping man. He leaned over and planted a gentle kiss on the scarred left temple, then he pulled the covers up and fell into a deep and restful sleep.

When morning came, Madsen opened his eyes and felt a sudden stab of panic as he failed to recognize his surroundings, then just as suddenly he remembered. He glanced over to the other side of the bed. The mussed up sheets and the slight depression spoke of another body but the space was empty; he reached out. The sheets were still warm where Kevin had lain. Madsen stroked along the warm surface wishing it was Kevin rather than the sheet he felt under his questing hand. He drew his hand back quickly at the sound of approaching footsteps. The door swung open as Carlisle nudged it with a tray.

"We overslept. It's nearly noon."

Madsen sat up as Kevin brought the tray over. It was stacked with toast and two mugs of coffee. Carlisle planted the tray firmly in the Detective's lap and then moved around to the other side of the bed, shrugged off his robe and crawled back under the sheets. Once settled he reached for a slice of toast and one of the thick mugs.

"Is this how you served up breakfast for Karen?"

"You of all people should know Karen doesn't like toast."

Kevin smiled behind the mug he had drawn up to his lips, pleased at the way he had managed to parry the first blow of the day. If Madsen hoped to upset Carlisle by this remark then he was sorely disappointed for the small amount of time spent with Karen had taught him a lot about human nature, especially Carl Madsen's nature. Carlisle had been expecting such a remark. Karen had described it as a guilt stab; Madsen felt guilty for being here and so he stabbed out at the person causing those feelings of guilt.

"Shall we try a few more bars today?"

Madsen recognized the attempt to draw his attention away from their current situation and was almost relieved. As long as he avoided thinking about the warm, firm body beside him he might be able to leave this bed without further acts of betrayal towards Karen. He decided to play along.

"I think we should contact Hilton or Bishop first to see if that theory panned out."

"About the killer knowing his victims?"

"Yeah."

They both fell silent as they dealt with the remaining slices of toast. Suddenly, Madsen frowned. "What day is it?"

"Tuesday."

"Shit, I have an appointment at the hospital at two."

"That's okay. It's only just gone 12. There's plenty of time... for anything you want..."

Carlisle let the sentence trail off provocatively and smiled as a blush stained his lover's cheeks. He reached across and took the tray from Madsen, carefully placed it on the floor beside the bed and then turned back to face Carl. There was no mistaking the glint in his eye.

Madsen swallowed as he watched a pink tongue tip trace its way across Carlisle's lips, mesmerized by the hunger in his companion's eyes. When Kevin reached for his lover he met only a token resistance and his eyes were full of love as he descended upon the soft, pliant lips. He kissed Madsen slowly and thoroughly as if the man was made of fine bone china, afraid that too much pressure could shatter the sensations building between them. His hands moved to skim across a nipple and he probed deeper with his tongue as he felt his lover gasp with the sudden stimulation. His arms moved to circle his companion until he had a strong enough grip to pull the other against him. This time it was he who gasped as he felt Carl's erection against his own. He thrust his hips slowly backward and forward sighing deep into Carl's mouth as the friction produced electric shocks that ran the length of his body. Kevin felt Carl drag his mouth away as ragged breaths were torn from him, his mind responding to the erotic signals his body was sending.

With a cry Carl stiffened, head thrown back in abandonment as his body went over the edge and warm fluid spurted between them. The sensation triggered his own release and he felt his body rush towards a climax that tore a cry of pleasure from his throat.

They held tightly to each other as a melting sensation echoed through their spent bodies. It was Kevin who recovered first, taking his lover's mouth in a soft and gentle kiss. He pulled back slightly and waited for the dark eyes to open. The enlarged pupils made the eyes appear almost black but Kevin felt his heart twist with joy as he recognized depths of love and satisfaction rather than the guilt he had feared but the pleasure was not to last as the eyes clouded over with realization. Kevin felt his heart sink as Carl pulled away from his embrace.

"Why are you doing this? Don't you think Karen would want you to be happy?"

"Of course she wants me to be happy, but not with you."

"Have you spoken to her? Have you asked her how she feels?"

"No, and I don't intend to. She doesn't deserve this."

"And neither do I."

"I never meant for this to happen. I should have taken a cab..."

Madsen stopped as Kevin turned away from him, his heart sinking as he reached out impotently towards the other's bare shoulder but drew his hand back before touching. His heart suddenly felt heavy with the pain of loss. Oh god, how he wanted Kevin Carlisle but how he wished Kevin had never known Karen Hicks.

****

The drive to the hospital was completed in silence but when they arrived Madsen made no attempt to leave the car. They sat quietly for a few minutes that felt like hours until Carl turned to his companion and spoke to him tentatively.

"Are you coming in with me?"

Kevin smiled and nodded as he recognized the wanting in Madsen's voice. For all his feelings of guilt, Madsen was caught like a moth to a flame. Carlisle had no doubts Madsen would be his once he had convinced his lover that his betrayal of Karen was unreal. As Madsen climbed out of the car a thought smacked into Kevin and he almost yelled out. He would talk to Karen, tell her about his relationship with Carl and ask for her help. If she truly felt any love for her ex-husband then she would help him to find the happiness he deserved and needed. He followed Madsen into the hospital with a new-found strength of purpose.

****

Bishop sauntered into the office. He'd been kept busy all of the previous afternoon and evening with developments on another murder investigation but now he listened while Hilton outlined Madsen's theory and explained what action had been taken so far.

"Where's Madsen?"

"He called in about an hour ago. He's got an appointment at the hospital at two then he and Carlisle are gonna hit a few more bars to see if they can jog any memories, but I think he's onto something. All the victims have been gay cops. It could be someone they knew. God forbid but it could be another cop committing these murders."

"What makes you say that?"

"Well, it's a possibility. Cops know cops. What if one cop took exception to another cop being gay? He'd know our procedures so he'd be in a better position to make sure he could get away with murder."

"Who's Carlisle?"

Hilton frowned at the change of subject. "That witness from the Hammer Killings. The one who lost his memory. I heard rumors he was involved with Karen Hicks but they broke up 'cos' he suddenly remembered he was gay. He's been spending a lot of time with Madsen recently, if you catch my drift."

"Are you saying Madsen's gay?"

"I know for a fact Madsen was Shoreman's lover back at the academy. My last partner was a classmate of theirs." Bishop frowned. "Hey, Bishop, are you okay?"

"Yeah, fine. Just thinking over a few things that's all."

"Yeah, well, I sent some people out to do house-to-house calls near each victim's home. Nada. Nothing. So far no-one remembers seeing or hearing anything strange on those nights. I'm sending Jameson out again around 17:00 to catch some of the ones he missed last night."

"So Madsen's gay, is he?"

Hilton laughed and slapped his partner on the shoulder. "Bishop, you haven't been listening to a word I said! Come on, we've got a lot of checking to do."

****

The appointment at the hospital took longer than he had envisaged. The Doctor had given him a full physical and now he felt exhausted. It was already 16:30 and with less than an hour of daylight left they decided not to bother with any bars.

Carlisle pulled to a halt outside Madsen's apartment building. He wanted to pull the other to him and kiss him passionately but he controlled the urge and waited for Madsen to leave the car.

"I'll be back in a couple of hours."

Madsen held up a hand as the car pulled away. He stood there by the kerbside for several seconds wishing he could have found some excuse to remain with Carlisle. Eventually, he sighed, turned and walked up the steps to the front door of his building. The cold, late fall wind made him shiver and he turned up the collar of his coat. How he hated the cold nights that grew longer as winter drew closer. In his preoccupation he failed to notice the slight figure that detached itself from the wall opposite. He fumbled with his keys and cursed loudly as he dropped them. Madsen heard the footsteps behind him as he bent over to retrieve them. He straightened and turned to face the newcomer.

"Karen, what are you doing here?"

"Waiting for you. I called several times but there was no answer."

"I've been..."

The door opened and an old lady shuffled out. "Hello, Lt Madsen. I thought I heard you out here."

"Mrs Krawalski." Madsen greeted the elderly widow with a tight smile and sidled passed her into the dim interior. He glanced back at his ex-wife. "Let's go up and talk."

Karen followed her ex-husband up the narrow stairs to his apartment staying silent until the door closed firmly behind them.

"Why were you with Kevin Carlisle?"

Any attempt to lie was instantly foiled by the guilty expression that crossed his expressive features. He bowed his head in shame.

"I never meant for anything to happen."

Karen gave a small smile and wrapped herself around him hugging him tightly.

"I waited outside Kevin's home yesterday evening. I wanted to speak to him, to find out if he had reached a final decision over our future. I recognized your car as it pulled up. I watched you go in together and I saw the lights go out twenty minutes later." Karen released herself from his loose embrace. "Thanks for not lying to me, Carl."

"You don't mind?"

"Of course I mind - but not as much as I thought I would. To be honest I knew I had no chance of winning him back and if I had to lose him to someone then I'd rather it was to you than to another woman. Do you love him?"

Carl turned away but Karen pulled him back to face her, her face set in determination as she awaited an answer. He raised dark eyes to meet hers and she read the answer there before he found his voice. Karen smiled genuinely this time. As a psychologist she knew they were right for each other. Kevin was everything Carl needed and vice versa.

"Don't mess this one up, Carl, or I'll never forgive you."

Madsen felt his heart soar when he realized she had given them her blessing. He threw his arms around her and lifted her smaller frame off the floor as he hugged her close. His eyes still dancing with happiness as he let go.

"Karen, you're the most special woman in my life and you always will be."

Karen blushed and pushed away. "Don't go all mushy on me, Carl. Now where's that coffee you promised?"

****

"Can I help you?"

Carlisle glanced up at the desk sergeant and hesitated. "Actually, I'm looking for Karen Hicks."

"Up the corridor, 3rd door to your left."

"Thank you."

Carlisle wandered up a corridor packed with determined looking individuals. To Carlisle, the noise and crowding implied chaos but everyone seemed to have a purposeful stride as they dodged around each other. He found the room he was seeking and rapped on the door. The sharp 'Come in' made his heart skip a beat out of fear. He had spent the passed hour and a half trying to figure out the right way to say what he had to say and all he had decided was that he could hardly walk up to Karen and say, 'Karen, I don't love you but I do love your ex-husband. Would you mind giving him a call and telling him that's okay by you'.

Carlisle gently turned the knob and looked in. Karen's eyes widened in shock when she realized who her visitor was.

"I wasn't expecting to see you."

Carlisle swallowed hard on hearing the hard edge in her voice suddenly wondering whether he had totally misjudged Karen Hicks. His time spent with her before his memory returned had lead him to believe she was an open-minded, easy going person. Now he was not so sure. What if she decided to drive a wedge between him and Madsen as revenge for his supposed betrayal? Then he realized he really had no choice. If he was to win Madsen then he had to take the gamble.

"I need to talk with you, about Carl."

Karen almost smiled. She'd already had a long talk with Carl but she wasn't going to let Kevin Carlisle off the hook so lightly. Carlisle gazed at Karen expectantly and looked away when he met only a cold stare.

"Karen, I'm in love with Carl - and he's in love with me."

"But?"

Carlisle frowned. This was not going according to any of the scenarios he had envisaged. Tears, he had expected, or anger, but not this cold detachment.

"But he cares for you deeply and doesn't want to hurt you."

"So what do you want from me, Kevin?"

"I need you to tell Carl it's okay to love me." Karen stared at him coldly for a few moments longer. "Please, Karen..."

He stopped abruptly as a small, wistful smile crossed her face.

"I don't need to tell him. He already knows."

Karen turned away from his confused expression and gave her attention back to the work on her desk. The conversation was finished as far as she was concerned. She only looked up again after she heard the door close softly behind him.

****

John Hilton sighed as the phone rang for the sixth time in as many minutes. He wished Mike was there to take some of the calls.

"Detective Hilton. Yeah... What! Are you positive? I'm on my way." Hilton slammed down the phone and grabbed his coat as he leapt out of his chair yelling as he went. "Larson, Minetti, with me." He careered straight into Kevin Carlisle and a thought hit him just as hard. "Where's Madsen?"

"I left him at his apartment a couple of hours back. Hey, what's going on?"

"Minetti, call Madsen. Tell him to stay where he is. We're on our way over there."

Carlisle raced after the remaining two detectives as they rushed out of the Police station. He jumped behind the wheel of his own vehicle and hurtled off behind Hilton's car. Darkness had already fallen but Carlisle didn't need to see the other vehicle; he knew where it was heading but he didn't know why.

****

The intercom sounded and Carl rushed over to press the switch. He was disappointed when the voice at the other end was not Carlisle's.

"Carl, it's Mike Bishop. We've got as lead on Jesse's murderer, thought you'd like to come along."

Carl hesitated. He desperately wanted to see Kevin but decided his news would have to wait. "I'll be right down."

As he locked the door behind him he heard the phone. He debated whether or not to go back in and answer it but the intercom buzzed again impatiently. Bishop was straining at the leash and it wouldn't be right to hold him back any longer.

Twelve minutes later, Hilton's car screeched to a halt outside Madsen's apartment. Carlisle halted directly behind it and he jumped out of the car and made it to the intercom before the police officers; knowing which apartment building Madsen lived in had given him the edge. He pushed the button. No answer. He tried again just as the door opened revealing the white-haired old lady from the ground floor apartment.

"If you're looking for that nice police officer then you just missed him."

Hilton cut in. "Was he alone?"

"No, there was another police man. Bisham?"

"Bishop?"

"Yes, that's the name. Bishop."

Hilton turned back to Larson. "Put out an APB on Bishop. Tell Control he's got a hostage."

"Bishop's the killer?"

"Yeah, or at least one of them, and without realizing it I handed Madsen over to him like a lamb to a wolf."

Hilton suddenly realized where they were and pulled Carlisle down the steps and away from the small crowd that had started to gather. He opened the rear door of his car and taking the hint, Carlisle got in. Larson started the car and drove slowly towards the end of the road while Hilton turned around in his seat to explain everything to Carlisle.

"Madsen suggested we do a house-to-house around each victim's neighborhood. The first sweep gained us nothing. We decided to wait until 18:00 this evening before starting the next so we could catch people coming home from work. Someone remembered seeing Jesse Shoreman talking with another man around 21:00 on the night he died. He didn't see the man's face but he had details of the car he drove because it was parked across his access way. Our witness jotted down the number as he intended to get the Traffic Police to tow it away. Shoreman and the mystery man got in and drove off before he could phone. He screwed up the piece of paper and threw it into the waste basket and it was still in there. The number was radioed in and it came up with Detective Sergeant Michael Bishop."

The radio crackled into life.

_Green Ford, registration Charlie-Baker-Delta-two-niner-zero heading northbound on Columbus, junction of West 82nd Street..._

"Let's go."

****

"So where're we headed?"

"Towards Central Park North."

"Hilton meeting us there?"

"You could say that."

Madsen turned slightly in his seat and frowned at the driver. The strong profile held a tight-mouthed expression. "What's going on, Mike?"

"Tell me about Kevin Carlisle."

Madsen frowned again. What had Kevin got to do with any of this? "He's a friend."

"Yeah, I just bet he is."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Do you fuck him or does he fuck you?"

Madsen's eyes narrowed in anger. "That's none of your goddamn business."

Bishop laughed nastily. The silence between them lengthened. "Cops are supposed to be pillars of the community. We're supposed to have morals, virtues. We're protectors of the upright, law abiding citizens of this city..."

"And being Gay means I'm not?"

"Yeah! Gay cops are wide open for blackmail. How can you trust any of them?"

"The only problem with being Gay is people like you with your holier-than-thou attitude. I'm no different from the person I was last week. The only thing that's changed is you. So where does the problem lie, Mike? With me... or with you?"

Bishop turned off on West 100th and a few minutes later they were entering Central Park. Bishop followed the route off to the left heading up towards the small lakes. They saw no-one as they drove through for at this time of year the park was deserted fairly early. No-one liked to hang around after dark, not in this city. Bishop pulled over and switched off the engine. They remained for a while in silence. Another full minute passed before Madsen spotted signs of movement just beyond the ring of light thrown out by the head lamps. He straightened and started to ease his gun out of the shoulder holster but Bishop's restraining hand stopped him.

"You won't need that. They're friends."

Bishop got out of the car and stood by the door. A man walked out of the shadows to stand in front of the detective, a broad smile revealing decaying teeth. Another man appeared by the passenger door and opened it. Madsen jerked back as a gun was leveled at his face. He turned in his seat to get some guidance from Bishop but the other detective had moved away from the car and was standing several feet away smiling at him strangely. Madsen's attention was brought back to other man as the gun was jabbed into his temple.

"Get out of the car, faggot."

He had no choice but to obey. He glanced once more at Bishop in bewilderment as his gun was roughly torn from the holster beneath his left armpit. His captor pushed him away from the car.

"Mike?"

"I'm sorry, Carl. I really liked you but you gave me no choice. The Department's my life and I won't see its reputation sullied by your kind."

"Bishop!"

Madsen cried out as he watched his fellow Police Officer return to the car, start the engine and pull away leaving him alone in the dark with the others.

****

"Where the hell are they?"

"Make a right towards the Park." Hilton pointed to a car passing in the other direction. "There! Let's take him."

Larson swung the car into a U-turn as Hilton turned on the siren. The green colored Ford picked up speed. Hilton grabbed the radio and began to issue instructions, he knew Bishop would have his radio on but he had no other options open to him. They chased the Ford as it swerved into Amsterdam Avenue. A black and white joined in with its siren screaming and lights flashing.

Carlisle tensed as their car closed in on its quarry, suddenly afraid that Carl may be lying in the back of that car injured, or worse still, dead.

Listening carefully to the radio, Bishop was able to anticipate every move. He laughed out loud to himself. By the time they caught up with him Madsen would be long dead. He laughed again as Hilton changed radio frequency and reached down to re-tune the radio. He looked up and the smile dropped from his face in horror. He slammed on the brakes and tried to swerve around the Dumper truck that pulled out of an alleyway but he was going too fast. The car smashed against the front corner, span out of control and crashed into vehicles parked along the length of the street. Within seconds Bishop felt his body being hauled up from the wheel as voices demanded to know where he had taken Carl Madsen. Bishop smiled in triumph as his eyes glazed over in death.

"The Park." Hilton glanced up at Carlisle, questioningly. "We picked him up traveling away from Central Park. He must have..." Carlisle choked back the words but his mind spoke them fearfully. _He must have dumped him there._

Hilton left the officers in the Black and White to deal with the 'accident' scene. He, Larson and Carlisle jumped back into Hilton's car and accelerated back the way they had come. Hilton hit the siren and didn't complain when Larson floored the accelerator. During the short journey Hilton commandeered every available unit to comb the north end of the park; Police units blocked every exit as quickly as possible.

They drove forward slowly, eyes keenly peeled to either side of the road looking for signs of anything suspicious.

"Stop!"

Kevin launched himself out of the door as the car halted. Larson and Hilton reached him seconds later as he picked up a shoe from the side of the road. Hilton stiffened as a slight movement attracted his attention. He pulled out his .38 and moved slowly to the left, gradually circling back to come up behind the person hiding in the bushes.

"Hold it right there."

His quarry tensed for a second and then began to shake. "I didn't do nothing. I'm just trying to get some sleep."

Hilton glanced up as Carlisle and Larson joined him. "Did you see anything strange happen here in the last half hour or so?"

"I ain't seen nothing'."

Carlisle's eyes narrowed as his gaze took in the scruffy figure wearing a coat in surprisingly good condition. He grabbed at the slightly dirtied overcoat.

"Where did you get this?"

"It's mine!"

Carlisle reached into the pocket and pulled out a cheap, plastic lighter and a crushed packet of cigarettes. The packet and the lighter were identical to the ones Madsen had pulled from his coat pocket the night before outside Kevin's apartment. Carlisle closed his hand tightly around the lighter as he remembered the strong yet gentle fingers wrapped around this same object. He looked away from the road and into the darkness beyond; his lover was out there somewhere. His eyes darkened in fury but before he had the chance to do anything the wino was grabbed and pulled forward by Hilton. The policeman snarled menacingly into the wino's face.

"Where is he?"

"They took off towards the Loch. They told him they had somewhere nice an' secluded nearby." Hilton dropped the man and raced back towards the car with Larson and Carlisle following.

"Hey, those smoke's are mine!"

Carlisle threw the packet away behind him but he clutched tightly to the lighter.

****

For Madsen it seemed like a bad dream. He pulled his legs closer to his body as he half-listened to the sounds of raucous laughter. They wanted the sport to last and now they stood around him prodding him with a booted foot to see if he had any fight left in him. As he waited for their patience to grow thin his mind replayed the events leading from the car to this place.

As Bishop drove away he'd taken an opportunity to swing at the man with the gun but hadn't anticipated the speed with which his target would recover. He was backhanded across the face with the heavy firearm as the others closed in around him. Madsen fell to the ground slightly stunned. As arms reached for him he hit out again with his feet. He caught one of his attackers squarely on the thigh but felt his other leg caught in a strong grip. Madsen tried to twist out of the grasp and succeeded, losing his shoe in the process but it was all in vain. The others pulled at him and he felt his coat slide off his shoulders, pinning his arms to his sides. They set about him, kicking and punching until he collapsed in pain and exhaustion at their feet. Now their victim was more subdued, they roughly pulled him to his feet. The coat was yanked from him and he shivered as the biting November wind blew straight through him.

He barely remembered the journey to the sewer outlet. He was half carried, half dragged, his shoeless foot catching on sharp stones and roots. They had stripped, bound and gagged him the moment they entered the enclosed area in the sewer. Someone had produced a light, another had pulled his chin up roughly with callused fingers and he had tried to pull back from the smell of booze and rotting teeth.

"Don't you guys ever learn? We don't like Pigs an' we especially don't like Queers. That makes you top of our hate list. How many more of your kind do we have to deal with before the rest of you learn the lesson?"

Madsen had tried to speak but the words wouldn't form around the material forced tightly around his mouth - and then it began. By the time they stopped for a rest he was curled into the fetal position, his survival instincts desperately trying to protect his battered body from the blows.

His thoughts came back to the present. The smell of nicotine filled the air followed by the snapping of beer can rings. A crazy thought entered his head and he nearly laughed out loud; they were having a party! His thoughts sobered quickly as he realized how little time he might have left.

Madsen felt his heart grow cold and heavy as he thought of the happiness he could have shared with Kevin Carlisle. He tried to picture the way Kevin's eyes crinkled up when he smiled and tried to imagine the feel of the soft hands as they caressed him. He could almost smell the musky scent of his skin and taste the salty perspiration that covered his lover in a fine sheen after their love-making. Tears formed as he thought of how good it could have been. He choked back a sob afraid his attackers would hear and finish what they had started. Oh God, how he wanted to live. He held still as the others grew silent. Through slitted, swollen lids he watched as the foul-breathed leader of the gang picked up Madsen's tie and coiled the ends around his clenched fists until the material was stretched tautly between his hands. The gruesome smile widened as the man approached his victim. Madsen tried to move away but it was impossible with his wrists and ankles bound so tightly. He closed his eyes, not wanting his last sight to be of this man, and let his mind drift back to laughing eyes and soft caresses.

"What was that?"

The man froze, his head turning to try and recapture the sound that had caught his attention.

Madsen heard the footsteps receding but moments later the sound of panic and chaos filled the small enclosure. He gasped and tried to pull away as someone dropped by his side. He felt the hands reaching out to him, expecting to feel the tie tighten around his throat until it stopped the life-giving air from reaching his lungs. Instead, he was pulled into a gentle embrace but he whimpered in fear until a familiar voice reached through the layers of pain. The gag was pulled gently from his mouth, the thin rope binding his wrists and ankles released. He gave a soft cry of pain when the blood began to flow back into his limbs and opened one swollen eye. A tear rolled down his cheek as he recognized his lover above him before the scene around him slipped away into darkness.

****

For Kevin Carlisle, the following events blurred into one. At some point, while he held his unconscious lover close, Captain Reynolds had arrived, gently added his own thick coat to the one laid over his naked and bloodied subordinate by John Hilton. Carlisle vaguely remembered the paramedics and the bumpy journey to the hospital, he remembered being restrained by strong arms as the gurney rushed away through another set of doors but now he had come to the worst part; the waiting. It seemed as if hours had passed before Karen burst into the waiting area. Carlisle stood up and moved towards her. All pretense of indifference fled as Karen sought out the one person who cared as deeply, if not more deeply, for Carl Madsen as herself. She wrapped her arms around Carlisle trying to give as well as receive strength in that embrace.

"How is he?"

"They're checking him out for internal injuries."

"How bad do you think it is?"

Carlisle shook his head and felt tears sting behind his eyes for the first time since this nightmare had begun. The shock was beginning to wear off. Karen pulled him over towards a long couch and sat down beside him. They remained seated side-by-side for several long minutes before Carlisle broke the silence.

"I do love him, you know."

"I know. And I know he loves you." Karen smiled bravely as confusion crossed the familiar features she had fallen in love with. "I saw Carl, God, was it only a few hours ago? He told me about the two of you. He told me he loved you and I told him not to mess it up this time."

A tear slowly tipped over the rim of one eye and rolled down her cheek.

Kevin wiped away the tear with a gentle finger, his own mind at peace now he knew his love for Carl had been returned in full. Any words he might have offered back in comfort were lost as a man, dressed in the green coveralls of a surgeon, entered the waiting room. The small group of people, including Captain Reynold, stood up to meet him half-way.

"He sustained some heavy cuts and severe bruising but, fortunately, avoided further blows to his head..."

"Can I see him?"

"He's still unconscious..."

The surgeon gazed into Carlisle's desperate, pleading eyes. He looked at the others in the small group and, having received tacit agreement, he relented.

"Sure, I'll ask the nurse to take you to him."

***

The strong scent of antiseptic in the air gave away his location even before he opened his eyes. His vision was blurred where his left eye was swollen shut from the blow he'd received. A familiar, and definitely unwanted, discomfort brought his attention to his left arm and an eerie sense of déjà-vu descended as his gaze traveled from the needle embedded in his arm along the plastic tubing to a bag of colorless liquid suspended high above him. For a moment he wondered whether the events of the past week had all been a bad dream brought on by the blow to his head from Alan Strong. A slight movement in the room caught his eye. He turned his head in that direction and smiled. No, not a dream.

Kevin Carlisle shifted in his sleep as his body tried to find a more comfortable position in the hard visitor chair.

Carl reached out and let his fingers drift along the cool flesh of Kevin's arm. The sensation caused Kevin to moan softly and open his eyes. As light brown eyes met Carl's a smile curved upwards on Carlisle's face. He reached forward and took the slightly smaller fingers in his own, gently rubbing his thumb along the back of his lover's hand in a soft caress. No words were spoken, none were needed, for Kevin knew that this time Carl would not turn away from their love.

THE END


End file.
